Kathryn B. Tracy ’74 (Class of ’73) moved back to Northampton with her
two daughters in 1996 when she joined the graduate school faculty at the
UMass Amherst School of Public Health. She luckily happened upon the
very first Poetry Center readings at Neilson Library, and has been an
inveterate fan ever since. Before returning to the valley, she lived in
Syracuse, Washington D.C., and Saratoga Springs, earning her MPA from
the Maxwell School at Syracuse University, and her DrPH at Columbia
University—public health having been the wonderful, lifelong legacy
from Smith’s awesome emerita faculty member, Betty Robinton. Kathryn
now works at UConn Storrs, developing doctoral programs for the Center
for Public Health and Health Policy. She humbly submits this poem,
considering her daughters to be the real writers in the family: Sarah
(Wesleyan ’10) won a Smith Poetry Center award as a high school student
at Stoneleigh-Burnham School, while Kristen experiences beauty and
writes eloquently about it on the Big Island of Hawaii.

City

Still,
Barely moving, barely
breathing.
Listen
to no sound.

Not to be
heard again
until
the next dead hour
of the next dark night

before the first dream
of dawn
stirs
the pulse and

Quickens the blood,
before the accelerating hum
tests its voice, and
the city turns
—noises on—
again.